Chapter 3 3

CHARLEE

This is a dream. There's no way it's really happening.

Maybe I should pinch myself to snap out of it, but then he'll think I'm weird.

Harrison Bridges is sitting at the bar with me, talking to me, flirting sweetly, making me laugh, and joking about the billionaires who brought their wives to the party and invited their model side chicks. He's giving me all his attention and I'm trying not to swoon.

Harrison is my modern-day idea of what the Greek god Adonis must have looked like. He is physical perfection, with dark hair exactly matching his dark eyes and the most decadent white smile ever. He pairs that with the body of a GQ model and wears this gruff stubble that would normally be a put-off, but on him, it gives a woman some really freaky ideas.

Some of the girls he's been associated with in the past are right here in the crowd tonight, edging for his attention, but he's focused solely on me. I know it's the champagne, or maybe he's just being polite. Talking to boring Ms. Fox with my unnecessarily fat ass and hair the color of decaying iron ore. I look like a bloated plum compared to some of these leggy, perfect blondes.

"Are you here alone?" Harrison asks, propping his head up on one palm.

"Yeah, I came alone."

"Why? You should have brought your plus one."

"Maybe, but then, I'm single." A blush creeps into my face.

"You're single? You? Wow. Men are real idiots."

My heart flutters at his words and I see a look in his eyes I've never seen before. A primal, needy look, like I am a soft deer and he's a hungry lion. He reaches out to tuck that stubborn strand behind my hair and my face goes bright red at his warm touch.

Get ahold of yourself, idiot.

My phone dings at that moment and I pick it up too quickly. It's a message from Tess, wife of the boss and my childhood best friend and soul sister.

"We're leaving early. A little couple's thingy to attend to. You could totally catch a ride with someone else (wink)"

I look over just to catch Tess waving at me as she links arms with her husband and ducks out of the party. That... spoiled brat. How dare she do this to me? She was my only hope of getting home without ride-sharing.

"Hey, is everything okay?" Harrison asks, watching me closely.

Heaving a sigh of resignation, I dump my phone on the counter. "I was supposed to hitch a ride with Tess and Roscoe since I didn't drive here, and now they are leaving too early for God knows what."

Smiling, he feigns a thinking moment with a shake of his head and turns back to me. "Those two can be so annoying sometimes. Well, I don't mind giving you a ride at all. Just tell me when you're ready to leave."

My nerves start acting up at his offer. "Uh, I don't want to trouble you. It's okay. I can find..."

"I'll take you home, Charlee," he insists, and I exhale, nodding too rapidly. What is wrong with me?

Thirty minutes later, we're in his black convertible, a shockingly stunning luxury car, speeding through traffic as he drives to my tiny apartment. Love songs play from the speaker as he says sweet things to me all through the ride-complimenting my skin, loving on my hair, and I am suddenly comfortable with my gown riding up and showing my pale thighs. He makes me feel... sweetly warm and soft.

Too soon, we pull up at my apartment building and he parks the car, turning off the music. He takes off his seatbelt and turns to face me. At that moment, it dawns on me. He also doesn't want the night to end. I should say goodbye right now. Put an end to all this tension. Set us both free. But for some reason, I can't.

"Uh, Harrison. Would... would you like to come upstairs for some coffee?"

I really thought he would say no, but in less than a minute, we're riding the elevator to my apartment, my heart pounding in my chest as I fiddle around for my key. It's late and there's no one in the hallway. I wonder if anyone saw me getting out of that mad clean car.

I let us both into my humble space.

"Beautiful home you have here," Harrison says, spinning in a circle to take in my modest apartment. I've always liked my Nordic tones of milky-white, dark brown, and lines of black in the decor. Suddenly, the room is too hot and small for me. The AC is blaring but I can feel the warmth coursing through my body. I'm supposed to be making coffee but I can't move anymore.